Nemo gratis mendax
by Lil Padfoot17
Summary: Harry returns to Privet Drive at the end of sixth year, alone and grieving, but with plans to find the Horcruxes and destroy Voldemort. The day before his birthday, though, Harry vanishes, leading to a surprising series of events.
1. Privet Drive

Chapter 1; Privet Drive

Harry Potter lay on his bed in the smallest bedroom of number four, Privet drive, staring up at the ceiling. He'd spent most of the last few weeks here in his bed, doing absolutely nothing.

He raised his right hand, glaring at a gold locket that dangled from his fingers. The fake Horcrux. The one that had changed everything.

Dumbledore was dead, and it was all because of the trip to find the locket that was supposed to contain a seventh of Voldemort's soul. That, and Severus Snape's Killing Curse. However, they'd been too late. Someone called R.A.B. had beaten them to finding it. He hoped they were lucky and that it had been destroyed by R.A.B., but Harry just knew it was still out there somewhere, keeping Voldemort immortal that much longer, along with Helga Hufflepuff's cup, Nagini, and something of Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. It was much more likely to be something that had belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw, as Voldemort would have valued the intelligence of the house of Ravenclaw over Godric Gryffindor's bravery.

He sighed and dropped his hand back to the bed. Just one more day here at the Dursleys, and then he could begin his hunt for the rest of the Horcruxes. He would no longer be an underage wizard, but of age, and able to use magic without the Ministry stopping him. Then, he would be able to begin his fight against Voldemort and his Horcruxes.

Ron and Hermione would join him after he left Privet Drive. He didn't want them to, but they weren't going to let him go without them. At least he'd convinced them that he could stay at the Dursleys on his own. After all, he was supposed to be best protected there. But as soon as he turned seventeen, he was leaving, and he would never come back. He would have to go to the Burrow for a few days, for Bill and Fleur's wedding, and then to Godric's Hollow. Who knew where he would go after that. Voldemort could have hidden the Horcruxes anywhere. But he would find them, no matter how well Voldemort thought he'd hidden them.

He wondered if Hogwarts was going to be reopened. It didn't seem likely, not after Dumbledore had been killed right there in the castle. No one had ever expected that. Of course, Harry had known all along that Malfoy had been up to something. No one had believed him. Maybe if they had, Dumbledore would still be alive. They could have stopped him from fixing the Vanishing Cabinet, locked him up, something, anything that would have changed what had happened.

When he found the two of them, though, Snape and Malfoy, he would make them pay. He would get revenge for them taking away Dumbledore.

He turned his head slightly as he heard the scraping of a bowl into his room through the catflap in his door. He had no desire to eat whatever it was. He hadn't had much of a desire to eat much of anything since Dumbledore had died. The Dursleys hadn't complained; they had been ignoring him since he'd gotten back from Hogwarts. Besides his aunt pushing food through the catflap and taking away the mostly full dishes, he hadn't had any contact with them. However, tonight he could hear his uncle yelling up the stairs.

"Boy, you had better be eating!"

Harry rolled his eyes and turned his head to stare out the window instead. He heard thundering footsteps coming up the stairs and coming to a stop outside his door. Several loud clicks later, and the footsteps were stopping by his bed.

"Get up and eat. I'm not wasting my money so that you can refuse the food we provide for you," his uncle growled.

"Why do you care? I'd have thought you'd be glad for me to drop dead," said Harry.

Harry felt a sharp pain in his head and saw stars briefly.

"You'll eat, or I'll force it down your throat. I won't have those freaks coming round wanting to know why we're not feeding you. Now get to it."

His uncle stomped away and slammed the door.

Harry found that there was now a bowl of a watery looking soup sitting on the table by his bed as he dragged himself into a sitting position. He grimaced when he picked it up and tasted a spoonful. It was lukewarm and tasted almost as bad as one of Madam Pomfrey's potions. He managed to force down most of the soup and put the bowl back on the table.

He laid back down to resume his position of staring at the ceiling, but instead curled up on his side. His stomach had begun hurting and he started to regret eating the soup. He closed his eyes to try to sleep as his fingers automatically found the fake Horcrux to clutch.

When Harry woke again, it was nearly dark outside and the only light in the room was the moon shining brightly. He felt strangely hot and cold at the same time. His eyelids felt heavy and didn't want to stay open, but he fought the strange sensations as he struggled to detangle himself from his thin blanket, which had somehow become tangled in his legs.

He was distracted from freeing his legs by the shadow of a movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head to look, but there was no one there. He kicked his legs free of the blanket and rolled onto his other side. His eyes started to close again on their own, but he forced them open again when he heard a soft movement from behind him.

Before he could even think of moving, however, a soft cloth was covering his nose and mouth. He smelled something strong and earthy and tried to fight back, but he was still feeling sick. He managed to swing his elbow back and hit it into something soft. He heard a soft grunt behind him, but his fighting was useless, as his eyes closed on their own once more, into a deep sleep.

* * *

A/N: The title is Latin, and translates to _No man lies freely_. It'll make sense later in the story.


	2. The Burrow

Chapter 2; The Burrow

It was nearing midnight on July thirty-first, and Hermione Granger was starting to worry. Harry was supposed to arrive at the Burrow hours ago, and though the adults were trying not to show their worry, the whispered talks and increasing number of Order members at the Burrow gave them away.

Hermione finally decided it was time to find out what was going on. She found Ron in his room, sorting through his belongings.

"Come on, Ron, we're going to make them tell us what's happening," she said.

"They're not going to tell us anything, Hermione," said Ron as he put a Chudley Cannons book on his pile of what looked to be the things he was packing.

"You're not bringing that rubbish along," said Hermione as she removed the book from the pile. "And yes, they are going to tell us. We're both of age, old enough to join the Order and old enough to be told where our best friend is." She grabbed Ron's wrist and pulled him up.

The kitchen door was locked when they got downstairs, but that didn't stop Hermione. A couple of spells later, she and Ron were marching into the middle of what was clearly an Order of the Phoenix meeting.

Before the Order members had a chance to say a word, though, Hermione demanded, "Where is Harry?"

Most of the Order members' faces turned from surprise to guilty looks and quickly averted their eyes. There were several minutes of silence before Professor Lupin finally spoke.

"Harry's missing," he said quietly.

"What?" asked Hermione incredulously as her hand found Ron's, gripping it tightly.

"We went to pick him up this morning, but Harry was gone. There were no signs of a struggle, and whoever took Harry took all of his belongings as well. The Dursleys know nothing. They were sound asleep when we arrived, and unfortunately, there's no means of tracing to see whether someone put them to sleep magically or if they honestly don't know anything," said Lupin. "And we've been watching that house day and night. No one should have been able to get in or out undetected."

"Maybe Harry left on his own," suggested Ron. "He wanted to go off on his own, but we weren't going to let him."

"Harry couldn't have left the house without alerting us either," said Tonks. "We had every protection we could think of on that house, short of the Fidelius Charm. He should have been safe."

Lupin waved his wand and two more chairs appeared, and then gestured for Ron and Hermione to sit. He glanced over at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley before saying, "We might as well induct them into the Order now. They're of age. Fred and George as well."

It was a mark of how times had changed so quickly that Mrs. Weasley didn't protest, but Hermione heard her give a quiet sob.

Kingsley Shacklebolt stood and pulled out his wand.

"Dumbledore used to do this, but as he's no longer here…" said Professor Lupin softly.

"Stand please," said Kingsley as he came over to stand by them.

When they were both standing, Kingsley asked, "Do you swear allegiance to the Order of the Phoenix?"

In unison, Ron and Hermione responded, "I do."

"Do you swear to do whatever it takes to destroy Voldemort?"

"I do."

Kingsley rapped each of them on the head in turn with his wand, and Hermione felt a strange warmth spreading throughout her body. She knew that would be the bonding spell taking effect, thereby inducting them into the Order of the Phoenix.

"We'll have a few Order members brief you while the rest of us work on the search," said Kingsley.

"But we want to help look for Harry too," protested Ron.

"You'll be of no use to the Order if you have no idea how we communicate or of the plans we have in place in case a mission goes awry," said Professor Lupin. "You'll help Harry more by learning how the Order operates first, and then you can help with the search."

Kingsley left Professor Lupin and Tonks at the Burrow and took the rest of the Order out to search for Harry. Now that Snape had turned traitor, they had to resort to other means to get information on Voldemort's activities.

"But Professor," said Hermione as they went to the sitting room to discuss the Order. "Wouldn't Voldemort be publicly showing if he had Harry? He'd want to scare the public, make them think twice about going against him."

"Not necessarily, Miss Granger. He could have a plan behind hiding Harry as well. The unknown can sometimes demoralize more than the known. Think, for a moment, that you are Lord Voldemort. Would it not frighten more to hear about the disappearances of our so-called "Chosen One," and then nothing? You would then wonder what he was doing to Harry, whether he was torturing him for information or for fun. Was he already dead or was Voldemort biding his time? And further, if Harry Potter could be kidnapped so easily, would it not also be so easy to kidnap, torture, and kill the ordinary witch or wizard? The unknown strikes fear into most everyone, and it will especially frighten those who knew about Voldemort's first rise to power," said Professor Lupin.

"But Professor, wouldn't he want to kill Harry right away?" asked Hermione.

"From the evidence of Harry's last four encounters with Voldemort, no, he would not. For Voldemort, like any other Dark witch or wizard, makes one simple mistake. They prefer to torture first, and wait to kill. Killing means and end to the fun, the pleasure they feel when torturing or using Dark magic. Voldemort will no doubt have carefully crafted his capture of Harry, as is clear from how easily he was able to bypass each and every one of the protections we had placed on Privet Drive, and he will no doubt have come up with a clever means of keeping Harry imprisoned until he is ready to kill."

"Then how are we going to find Harry?" asked Ron.

"Remember, Voldemort makes mistakes. His plan will not be completely foolproof," said Tonks. "And as hard as he's going to make it to rescue Harry, we _will_ find him."

"But what if it wasn't Voldemort that took him?" asked Hermione. "The Muggles were unharmed. Wouldn't Voldemort take advantage of that time to kill them?"

"In any other situation, I have no doubt that he would. However, kidnapping Harry involved much stealth, which he could not have had if he'd done more than get Harry and get out," said Tonks.

"But right now we need to get you two trained and ready to help search for Harry," said Professor Lupin. "Firstly, can you both produce a Patronus?"

"Yes, Professor," said Hermione. "Harry taught us all when we were in the D.A.."

"Did he really?" asked Professor Lupin.

"Harry taught us loads, Professor," said Ron. "Nearly everyone in the D.A. could produce a Patronus, even Neville had nearly gotten it."

"Please, I am no longer your professor. Call me Remus," said Professor Lupin.

"Erm, alright… Remus," said Hermione. She was completely unused to a teacher allowing her to call them by their first name. But as Prof—Remus was no longer a teacher, it would be strange, but alright.

"Since you have already mastered the Patronus Charm, this step will be much easier. As the Patronus is a projection of your own happiest thoughts and memories, it is wholly a piece of yourselves, and as such, you have somewhat of a command over it. This means that not only will it protect you from dementors, it can also carry messages. You simply need to project your message and destination along with your happy memory and it will travel and deliver your message. Let's try it now. Miss Granger, you first," said Remus.

Hermione thought for a moment, and then raised her wand. "Expecto Patronum!"

A shining silver otter gamboled over to Remus and dissipated into Remus's legs. He was silent for a moment, and then laughed.

"Well done, _Hermione_, you've done it, and on the first try. Ron, your turn now."

Hermione watched as Ron's face screwed up in concentration.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Ron's Patronus, a silvery Jack Russell terrier, padded over to Remus and disappeared into his legs as well.

"Good job Ron. Slightly less clear than Hermione's message, but well done just the same," said Remus.

"The next important thing you'll both need to know is Disillusionment Charms," said Tonks. "They're a bit tricky, but I'm sure you'll have the hang of them in no time."

------------

A week passed, with Ron and Hermione learning as much as the Order could teach them, while taking shifts searching various areas with Order members. Anyplace Harry might have gone to on his own, and anywhere they thought that Harry might be hidden or where they could possibly find information.

They'd been over the Dursleys's house over and over, and still hadn't found a single clue. The Dursleys continued to insist that they knew nothing, and although none of the remaining Order members knew Legilimency, Hermione knew they were telling the truth. They seemed frightened that wizards had managed to sneak into their house without any of them knowing.

Ron and Hermione had been sent there once again to search again, even though it seemed completely pointless. They weren't going to find anything.

Hermione was just finishing searching around Harry's room when Ron tripped and fell onto Harry's bed. He looked over at Hermione, a strange look on his face.

"Hermione, come here," said Ron.

"What? I've already looked on Harry's bed. There's nothing there," said Hermione as she pried up the loose floorboard where Harry usually hid things.

"It's not something you can look at. There's a strange smell. I think it's a potion," said Ron, getting to his feet.

Hermione leaned down and sniffed where Ron's face had been minutes before. Asphodel and wormwood… It couldn't be…

"I'm pretty sure this is from a sleeping draught, possibly the Draught of Living Death," said Hermione, frowning. She pulled out her wand and conjured her Patronus to send a message to Tonks, who was watching the house outside.

"Someone did kidnap Harry," she said quietly. "But I don't think it was Voldemort."


	3. Prisoner

Chapter 3; Prisoner

Harry struggled to open his eyes, which didn't seem to want to open properly, as if they'd been glued shut. His arms and legs didn't want to move either. What the hell had been put in that soup? Were the Dursleys working with the Death Eaters? His uncle, after all, had been the one ot make him eat. Or were they under an Imperius Curse? He tried to speak to ask what was going on, but all that came out was a soft grunt.

"Ah, Potter, you're awake," said a silky-smooth voice that sent a cold chill through Harry's stomach. Lucius Malfoy. "We'd hoped you have you here in a better condition. It seems, though, that the '_Chosen One'_ can't even manage to take care of himself, much less destroy the Dark Lord. Unfortunately, it will be myself and Draco forced to nurse you back to health. We should thank the Muggles you call relatives, though. They were more than happy to give you over to us. I believe they said something about not wanting a freak in their house any longer."

Harry seethed inside. He was supposed to be safe with the Dursleys, and yet, his own family had been the ones to betray him. But Lucius Malfoy knew none of the thoughts going through Harry's mind and was continuing to speak.

"The Dark Lord wants his guest to be in tip-top shape. That is, before he has his fun with you. Until that happy time however, we are stuck with you. Draco, give him his potion."

Harry wanted to protest, to clamp his lips shut so he wouldn't have to drink whatever potion the Malfoys were planning on giving him, but a cold vial easily passed his lips and Harry was forced to swallow the contents to keep from choking.

He expected Malfoy to say something derisive, make fun of him for being so weak, but Malfoy said nothing. Harry heard only soft footsteps moving away from where he was laying.

And then there was silence.

---------

The next time Harry woke, his eyes opened almost immediately. He was able to move as well. Or mostly move, as his arms were now tied behind his back. He had almost certainly been moved since Malfoy had given him the potion.

The room he was in now had a strange musty smell, as though it was not used often, and he was now lying on his side on cool stone. It was dark except for a small strip of light coming from what was probably the door.

If he had to guess, he'd say he was probably at Lucius Malfoy's mansion. But if he was at a known Death Eater's house, that could make it easier to find him. Then again, the house could have enough enchantments on it that no one else could find it, except those who had permission to access it. He was going to have to get out of this on his own, because there was no guarantee the Order could rescue him.

Harry awkwardly squirmed until he managed to get into a sitting position against the wall, which was also made of stone. He found it slightly creepy that the room, his prison cell, was probably located in a house that people lived in. Yes, it was probably Malfoy's house, but still, Harry couldn't imagine living in a house that contained a prison.

Harry couldn't see much, even with the tiny amount of light, but he could tell that he was in a small square, big enough for about four of him to lie comfortably. The only other thing in the room was a raggedy blanket. It didn't look as if there were any means of escape except through the door. Perhaps when someone came for him, he could make a break for it through the door.

He scooted slowly around the room, until he was sitting just to the left of the opening, where he wouldn't be as visible upon opening the door.

But no one came for him.

----------

Finally, what seemed like hours passed, and a plate with several sandwiches and a goblet of what looked like water appeared beside him in the cell. Harry looked over the food suspiciously. Was it normal for Voldemort to offer food to his prisoners? Then again, it wasn't normal for Voldemort to order his followers to make sure Harry was healthy. Feeding him probably went along with this order.

Still…Harry was suspicious. What if they'd put something in the food? He was positive they wouldn't feed him without slipping a few potions in.

Almost as if someone was reading his mind, the ropes tying his hands together vanished, and Harry was able to reach for the goblet so that he could sniff its contents.

It didn't smell like anything was in it, but there were potions that were odorless and colorless, like Veritaserum. That was one of the few things that Snape had actually taught him. He sniffed the sandwiches as well, but they, too, appeared to be innocent sandwiches.

He pushed the plate and goblet away. He wasn't hungry, and even if he was, he didn't trust the food.

Besides that fact, he wasn't going to be a docile prisoner. He wasn't eating Voldemort's food, and he wasn't going to do anything Voldemort wanted him to. He was still Dumbledore's man, and he would fight Voldemort every step of the way.

He settled back against the wall and waited. Someone would come eventually, and when they did, he would be ready.

------------

Harry jerked awake and realized with a start that he had fallen asleep and that his wrists had been retied.

"Damn," he muttered as he adjusted his position to be a little more comfortable, well, as comfortable as he could be while sitting on a stone floor. His back ached from the awkward position he had slept in.

He shouldn't have fallen asleep. What if someone had come in while he'd been asleep? He would have lost his chance for a quick escape. He didn't think anyone had come in, though. Surely they would have woken him up to be tortured now that he was healthy.

It was starting to feel very strange. First Voldemort wanted him healthy, then he fed Harry, and now he wasn't torturing him. What the hell was going on?

The plate of sandwiches and goblet were still in the cell with him, but they had moved to sit just to his left. Clearly, they expected him to eat. He wasn't giving in though. He pushed them away again and looked resolutely away.

A few minutes later, a piece of parchment shimmered into existence next to Harry's right leg, and the cell lit up just enough for him to read what was written without having to pick the parchment up.

_Potter, there are ways of getting potions into you other than ingesting them. Eat, or face the consequences_.

If his hands hadn't been tied up, Harry would have ripped the parchment to bits to display his defiance. As he didn't have the use of his hands, he had to settle for glaring at the parchment instead.

The words vanished from the parchment and were replaced with a single word.

_Now._

"No," said Harry, though of course whoever sent the parchment couldn't hear him. Or could they…?

A strange mist wafted into the room. It was heavily perfumed and reminded him of Professor Trelawney's tower classroom. Harry felt his eyelids growing heavier and heavier…

-----------

Harry awoke with his stomach churning violently. He was sprawled out on the floor, his hands freed once more, with his cheek pressed against the cold stone. But the stone felt so good against his hot cheek.

He opened his eyes to find the parchment next to his arm.

_You will obey in future. Your punishment will grow more severe the more you disobey._

What punishment? The parchment couldn't mean how sick he was feeling. That couldn't possibly be a punishment.

Harry blinked slowly and stared across the room. Was it his imagination, or did the cell seem smaller than it was before? No, it had to be his imagination. Walls didn't move on their own, but then again, they couldn't hear either.


	4. Battle of Wills

Chapter 4; Battle of Wills

Harry continued to lie on the floor until his desire to throw up went away. He still didn't feel quite right, but sat up anyway. He needed to get out of here. The Malfoys were seriously messed up, and he didn't want to stick around to see any more of their "punishments."

There wasn't any way out, though. If the Malfoys kept sending that stupid parchment and didn't come to the cell, he wasn't going to get a chance to even try to escape.

Harry sighed in frustration as he drew his knees up to his chest. He had to get out of here. He had Horcruxes to find and destroy, and Voldemort to kill. He couldn't just sit here and wait for the Malfoys to come and Voldemort to kill him.

His mind made up, Harry got up and prowled around the edges of the room. The walls were perfectly smooth stone, no cracks or openings anywhere. He moved to the spot where the sliver of light shone and tried to put his fingers under the crack, but met solid wall.

Confused, he lay down on the stone and peered at the crack. There was no crack, only the yellow sliver of light. He ran his hand along where the edges of a door should be, but again, found only smoothness. There was no door either, only a cruel illusion, one that dashed his chances for escape.

The Malfoys, if they were going to come to his cell, weren't going to use any means that he would be able to use to escape. Maybe once he was removed from the cell, he could find a way… _If_ he was removed… It didn't seem likely anymore…

Harry dropped back down to the floor. He was still not going to be an obedient prisoner, but fighting to get out of the cell would be pointless. His energy would be better spent by saving it until he needed to fight.

Another plate of food appeared and Harry immediately kicked it away, knowing he was supposed to eat its contents. Harry smirked, satisfied with himself, until the sliver of light vanished. Harry's smirk immediately melted from his face and he tensed, ready to fight at the first sign of anyone entering the cell.

But no one came. His brain registered too late that the strange mist was entering the cell again and he couldn't fight sleep…

-------------

The world spun around him as Harry tried to focus his vision. A circle of black cloaked and hooded figures taunting, one figure blurring into the next.

"Crucio!"

Pain was ripping his senses away. Blinding, tortuous pain.

But through the pain, a voice whispered, "Ask them. They will end it. All you have to do is ask…"

"No!" gasped Harry.

--------------

It took him a full minute to realize that he was back in the dark cell, completely alone, but the pain was still there. His whole body ached, as though the torture in his mind had been real.

It couldn't have been, though. He hadn't left his cell. They couldn't have taken him out and put him through all that and then returned him so quickly. It just wasn't possible.

But the pain he was feeling was definitely real. He couldn't possibly be imagining it.

Harry let out a soft moan as he curled up on his side. The cold stone was no longer welcome. Now, it seeped into his bones, chilling him to the core. The raggedy blanket was impossible to see in the darkness, even if he had been able to move to reach it.

He did know, though that the room was smaller again. It may be dark, but Harry knew.

"You won't win," he said quietly, knowing they were listening. "I'll never give in."

Almost imperceptible in his stupor, he could hear the walls shifting again, closing him in more.

He would not let the Malfoys win, no matter what. He would find some way to escape, and when he did, he would make them pay.

-----------------

Harry fell asleep quickly, but this time, his dreams were free from mysterious black figures and torture. Instead of dreamed of Ron and Hermione, and of Ginny.

_Ginny…_

He hadn't seen her since they had parted ways in King's Cross, quickly and awkwardly. He knew she was still upset that he had broken up with her, and he still felt guilty for having to do it, but he wouldn't have Voldemort use her to get to him. His mind, though, had no problem using her to make himself feel guiltier.

Harry carefully brought himself into a sitting position and gingerly leaned against the wall. His muscles still ached, making him feel sure that the torture he'd experienced had been real. He wrapped his left arm around his ribs, as if it would stop the ache.

The Weasleys were no doubt searching for him. He was supposed to have gone to the Burrow on his birthday, and they would know something had happened when he didn't show up. They weren't going to find him, though. He was sure of that. This was his battle, and he'd have to do it on his own.

Somehow, he would have to find a way to fight that strange potion mist stuff, and stop the Malfoys from controlling his mind. There had to be a way. He would find it.

-------------

Harry tried to be prepared when the mist came after his latest refusal to eat, but the mist numbed his mind and quickly sent him into unconsciousness.

He was more alert this time to the torture, though. It seemed to grow stronger each time he was subjected to it, and when he slowly opened his eyes, gasping for breath in his cell, he could recall nearly all it.

-------------

He was in his cell one minute, and back in the middle of the circle the next, seemingly instantly. This time, he could see that they were in a clearing that was surrounded by trees. It was just starting to grow dark, but an almost full moon shone overhead, allowing Harry to see some of his surroundings.

The first words he heard were again, "Crucio!"

Harry screamed and clenched his hands into fists. When the curse ended, he could hardly breathe.

He closed his eyes and tried to block out the Death Eaters. This wasn't real, it had to be all in his mind, and he could hide from it there. His mind was his own, and he alone controlled it. Not some stupid potion, and certainly not the Malfoys.

Harry thought quickly. What could he use to hide?

And then the answer came to him. Fog. He could hide in it, and it could be so thick, the Death Eaters wouldn't be able to see him.

Harry pictured the scene he was currently in inside his mind, and watched as a thick blanket of fog fell over him. When he opened his eyes again several minutes later, he was back in the cell, and only aching a little more than before he'd been knocked out.

He'd won this battle, at least, for now.

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A/N: This one was a bit more difficult to write, so it took a little longer. Unfortunately, the updates won't be as quick as the first couple chapters. As the plot gets more complex in my mind, it gets harder to write because I have so much to consider all at once. But I will try and keep the updates as regular as I can. I hope you're all enjoying the story!


	5. Closing In

Chapter 5; Closing In

Harry waited for his breathing to calm before he sat back up again. He knew the Malfoys were going to be angry that he'd beaten their illusion, but he was one step closer to beating them and escaping. Maybe if he made them angry enough, they'd come and take him out of the cell, for real.

This time, when the plate of food and goblet of water came, Harry picked the plate up and threw it across the room and heard it smash with a satisfying crack. He threw the goblet as well and smiled when he heard a thunk and then the splash of liquid onto the floor.

Harry quickly closed his eyes and let his mind fill with the thick fog. He ducked down and hid well below it, obscuring himself completely. He breathed deeply, keeping himself relaxed and prepared for the coming intrusion into his mind, and when the mist came this time, he was prepared for it.

He was vaguely aware of sliding sideways and onto the floor, but he was secure in knowing that they couldn't penetrate his mind.

---------------

Harry was momentarily confused when he woke up. At least, until he remembered about what he'd done to block out the torture dreams or visions or whatever they were.

He'd succeeded in blocking them out, but his feeling of accomplishment went away when he realized that the room had shrunk again. Now, it was barely big enough to accommodate Harry stretched out completely.

Clearly, the Malfoys thought it would bother him to be closed in so tightly. However, someone must not have informed him that he spent the first ten years of his life living in a broom cupboard. He laughed at the absurdity of the situation and because he knew it would annoy the Malfoys that he wasn't bothered by the shrinking room.

Actually, he was bothered by the room shrinking, but he wasn't going to let on to the Malfoys. He wasn't stupid. And if he let himself be bothered by it, it would make it worse, not to mention that the Malfoys would make it that much more difficult for him. He would find a way to beat it, just as he had the potion mist.

But he couldn't help but feel uneasy as he waited for something to happen. The cell remained dark and completely silent, the plates of food didn't come, and the enchanted parchment did not appear again.

----------------

What was probably hours later, though Harry couldn't tell for sure, he finally grew tired of sitting still and got up to prowl around the cell. He tried to keep the unease from showing on his face. He couldn't let the Malfoys know they were getting to him.

The room was much larger than the broom cupboard he'd lived in, but somehow, it was much more disturbing. In the cupboard he'd had the sound of movement up and down the stairs, and of the Dursleys and the television blaring. Here, there was complete silence. Even the Dursleys had given him a dim light-bulb as well, so he didn't remain in the dark with the spiders.

Harry tried to keep his breathing relaxed as he paced. Maybe the room shrinking was just another sick illusion and he only had to find a way to break it, like he'd done with the dreams.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and walked into a wall, like he would do to enter Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

His heart raced as he opened his eyes and realized it had worked; he had gone through the wall. His excitement faded, however, when he realized that he was back in the cell. What the hell?

He stepped forward again with his eyes open this time, but once again, he found himself back in the cell. Harry turned to his left and tried walking through that wall, with the same result.

Getting angry, Harry turned around and ran towards the wall again. Only this time, he didn't go through it, instead hitting the wall hard with a solid crack. He felt as though his head had split in two as he fell backwards onto the floor, dazed.

Harry blinked away the tears that had pooled in his eyes and tried to stop the feeling that the world was spinning around him. He groaned as he sat up and glared at the wall. He slowly got to his feet and stumbled over to the wall.

"Too much of a coward to come and face me, Mr. Malfoy?" he yelled. "Afraid I might be able to beat you without your stupid potions and shrinking room?"

Harry kicked furiously at the wall, earning himself a painful foot to go along with the rest of his now aching again body. He growled low under his breath and pounded his fists against the wall. Or, into the wall, as his fists went through the wall again, knocking Harry off-balance and sending him sprawling face-first into the floor.

It took Harry several minutes before he could raise his head from the floor. Something warm and sticky was flowing onto his nose, and as he gingerly touched his aching nose, he realized it was now broken and bleeding. He waited until the bleeding stopped, then slowly rolled over onto his back and glared furiously up into the darkness.

"Fuck you, Malfoy," Harry hissed. "You're just a pathetic coward who's too afraid to face a seventeen year old."

In response, the walls shifted closer together. Harry laughed. He could no longer stretch out completely and could almost touch the walls on either side of him. He knew Malfoy wouldn't squish him to death. This shouldn't amuse him, but if anyone was going to kill him, it would be Voldemort, and he was sure Voldemort would go for something a little more interesting than squishing him to death.

Well, not quite interesting, unless the Avada Kedavra curse changed from a green color to rainbow. Harry laughed again.

"Oh God, I'm cracking up," said Harry. Somehow, he couldn't keep from laughing at this statement as well.

"Fuck," he muttered as he carefully rolled onto his side and curled up. He needed to find a way to escape, before he went completely insane.

Harry buried himself deep beneath his fog in an attempt to hide himself from his reality. He was so far gone he didn't notice when the mist flowed into the cell again, sending Harry into unconsciousness.


	6. Occlumency

Chapter 6: Occlumency

When Harry woke up, he was immediately confused. He was no longer in the stone cell, and he was lying on something soft.

He opened his eyes and discovered that he was in a small white room that was furnished with the small cot he was laying and a small table that held vials of several different colored potions.

He also discovered that his wrists were tied to the sides of the cot. He pulled and felt rope cut into his wrists. Of course, this could all be another illusion and he could really still be in the tiny cell.

He knew it wasn't, though. This felt too real, much more than the visions.

And then something happened that made Harry sure that this was real.

He heard a soft rustling behind him and strained to see out of the corner of his left eye. The searching was unnecessary, though, as Draco Malfoy stepped smoothly into view.

"You're awake," he said, with no hint of derision in his voice.

"Way to state the obvious, Malfoy," retorted Harry.

Malfoy ignored this and asked, "How are you feeling?"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"I'm just bloody wonderful, thank you for asking," he said sarcastically. "Now, f you could untie me, I'll be off on my merry way and go destroy your oh-so-wonderful Dark Lord."

"I can't do that," said Malfoy slowly, strangely polite and almost… _regretful. _

"Ha," said Harry. "I'm sure you enjoying watching your daddy torture me."

"I can't untie you," said Malfoy, still sounding polite and cordial. "My father has enchanted the ropes so that they will only obey his command.

"Yeah, right," said Harry. "I expect dear old dad's with Voldemort right now, gloating that he captured me, waiting to get his treat handed to him."

Malfoy had a strange look on her face as his right arm twitched… as though he wanted to touch his left forearm, but didn't dare in front of Harry. He took a step closer, so that he was uncomfortably close to Harry's face.

"Actually, he isn't," said Malfoy quietly, his face serious. "He wants information on the Order—what they're doing to stop the Dark Lord. Things like that. If you talk, he'll set you free."

"Yes, and Voldemort'll just let me skip along home once he knows I'm here, won't you?" said Harry sarcastically.

"He doesn't know you're here, really. You can tell what you know, and then he'll tell the Dark Lord, and that you managed to escape. You've escaped the Dark Lord enough, it should be easy to overpower me, one of your classmates," said Malfoy.

"No thanks. I wouldn't tell your father my favorite kind of pudding, let alone anything the Order might be up to. So, I'd rather you just hand me straight to Voldemort, if you don't mind."

"Potter, you don't get it. You can go _free_, if you would just give my father information," said Malfoy.

"No thanks."

"Pot—"

"Malfoy, shut up. You're not fooling me with your fake niceness. I know all about your father. He's a Death Eater, Voldemort's finest. Well, I know all that title means is that your dad is nothing but a slave to Voldemort, trying to get any information he can so that Voldemort can throw him a few crumbs of affection, maybe even make him his best mate.

"Guess what? I may not have known Voldemort as long as Lucius Malfoy, but I think I know a few more things about him than his "best mate." Voldemort has _no_ friends. He has followers, underlings, _slaves_. Slaves that have to do anything he wants because they never know when they might breathe the wrong way and piss him off.

"Voldemort will never be _friends_ with your dad because that would mean that he considered Lucius an equal, and he can't have that. _Everyone_ is below him. It doesn't matter if you can trace your pureblood family back for centuries, he's better than you, even though he's nothing but a half-blood himself. Lower than you, by _his own_ standards. So, tell me why your father really wants information, because Voldemort doesn't want information. He wants _me_."

"You're being an idiot, Potter. My father didn't tell me why he wants information, or why he's willing to let you go free afterwards. I just know he does. So cooperate, and he'll make this easier on you. If you don't, he has worse means of torture than the shrinking room," said Malfoy.

"He can't be worse than Voldemort," said Harry.

He would have said more, but he could hear footsteps approaching the door. Malfoy stiffened.

"Pot—oh, fuck it, _Harry_, just do as he says!" hissed Malfoy before moving out of Harry's view.

The door opened silently and Lucius Malfoy glided in. He was, as usual, carrying the silver and black cane hat Harry knew concealed his wand.

"Potter, our guest of honor," he said softly as he took the place where Malfoy had stood, uncomfortably close to Harry. "I trust that Draco has explained what I would like from you. Information, in exchange for your freedom."

Harry remained silent. He wasn't telling anything, and he was sure Malfoy would know that already.

"I must say, I'm quite disappointed. I thought you might cooperate with me after my shrinking room, certainly after I offered you freedom," said Malfoy, though there was no trace of disappointment in his voice.

"I'd rather die than tell you a damn thing," said Harry. "Now take me to Voldemort."

"I don't think so. You're going to give me the information, whether by you telling me, or if I have to get it myself," said Lucius as he pulled his wand out of the cane.

Harry promptly shut his eyes, knowing what was coming. He heard a spell that he didn't recognize, and his eyelids were forced open.

"Legilimens," Malfoy growled.

Harry quickly dived under the blanket of fog in his mind. If it had worked to block out the visions, then surely it would work to stop Malfoy from reading his mind. He felt a strange sort of tugging sensation, as though Malfoy was trying to pull the god away and see his memories.

"No," he growled and pushed back easily.

Lucius stumbled back a step, looking furious, yet… oddly triumphant.

"Legilimens," said Malfoy again, louder and angrier this time.

Harry forced him away again, more easily than the previous time.

He'd somehow managed to learn Occlumency… now, when he needed it the most, but too late to save Sirius. But would it be enough to save himself?

--------------------

A/N: My apologies for the long delay between updates. It's been an absolutely crazy start of the semester, and I've been in no state of mind to write. However, chapter seven is nearly complete, so hopefully it'll be a much shorter time until I update again.


	7. Fire

Chapter 7; Fire

When Harry opened his eyes, he was momentarily confused. Then he remembered what had happened after he'd successfully Occluded his mind. Lucius Malfoy had forced a potion down his throat that made it burn, as though he'd poured liquid fire instead…

-----------  
Harry twisted wildly at the ropes securing him to the cot. His throat was burning, he was sure it was actually on fire.

He could feel the viscous liquid traveling down his throat, burning everything in its path. He fought to free his wrists from the ropes, cutting them more into his skin, as the potion settled into his stomach. Harry screamed in agony as he thrashed.

"Tell me what you know and I'll make it stop," said Lucius calmly.

"No!" Harry screamed.

The fire spread outwards, until it felt like it was flowing through Harry's veins. He was burning from the inside out, and he couldn't do anything to stop it.

Harry screamed until his throat was raw and burning more fiercely than before. Sweat dripped off his face. The cot felt uncomfortably damp beneath him.

He closed his eyes and laid his head back. The burning hadn't lessened in intensity, but he had exhausted his voice and couldn't find the strength to move his jaw.

He opened his eyes when Lucius spoke again.

"What do you know about the Order of the Phoenix?" asked Malfoy as he waved his wand and the burning lessened in Harry's throat.

"Go fuck yourself," Harry muttered hoarsely.

"Another dose, I believe," said Malfoy. He produced another vial of thick, reddish-orange potion.

Harry clenched his teeth together as best as he could, but another wave of Malfoy's wand, and his mouth was forced open enough for the potion to be poured own his throat. He started to choke as his abused throat refused to swallow.

He coughed violently and the potion was sprayed down his front. Threre were tiny sizzling sounds and Harry realized that the potion had burned through his shirt, but it was also burning his lips.

He licked his lips, trying to ease the burn with saliva, but there was potion residue on his tongue, which only intensified the burn.

"I'm going to give you one last chance to tell me what you know, now," said Lucius.

"No," growled Harry.

Lucius waved his wand and before Harry oculd hear what spell he used, he was unconscious. However, he was not unaware. The fire continued to rage on in his body and his mind was ful of flames burning him from the inside out. He could also hear a voice that sounded suspiciously like Malfoy.

"Harry, just tell him…"

Harry fought for just long enough to mumble back, "I'd rather die."

And then the world faded to black.

----------------------

When Harry opened his eyes again, he was back in the cell. It took a full minute before he realized that he wasn't alone. A dark figure stood several feet away from him. The figure looked at him and Harry could see the glint of a white mask under a black hood.

Death Eater.

The Death Eater raised a hand and exposed his black gloved hand. He slowly extended one finger and motioned for Harry to come.

Harry slowly got to his feet, feeling as though he'd been hit with a Jelly-Legs Jinx.

This was it. He was going to face Voldemort and would most likely not come out of this meeting alive. He would not show Voldemort any fear, though. Harry would look him in the eyes and stand tall and proud, the way his father had faced down Voldemort.

Harry took a deep breath and stepped forward to follow the Death Eater through an opening in the wall that had not been there before. As he stepped through the opening into a brightly lit hallway, he could hear a man's voice speak.

"You're completely free."

The bright light hurt Harry's eyes after the darkness of the cell, but as he squinted and looked around, he saw no one. The Death Eater had vanished.

This had to be a trap, another sick game.

He turned to go back into the cell, but where the opening had been minutes before was nothing but smooth stone wall. He patted the wall, sure that it was just a trick, the way the walls of the cell had been.

When the wall proved to be solid, Harry whirled and looked warily down the hall with his back pressed against the wall. After being in the tiny cell, the hallway was too large and bright.

Harry crept slowly down the hall, staying as close to the wall as he could, and making sre to keep his mind buried under the fog.

At the end of the hallway was a single plain wooden door. Harry hovered anxiously in front of it for several long minutes, debating whether he should open it or not. He finally reached for the doorknob, only to draw it back at the last second.

Why was he being such a coward?

Harry growled low under his breath and reached out again. This time, he turned the doorknob and opened the door.

Harry's hand fell from the doorknob and he took a step back in shock. The room he was now standing in was far from what he'd expected. A dungeon full of torture devices, yes. Voldemort himself was a much more likely scenario than a cozy living room.

He edged into the room, wondering if this was another illusion. He carefully touched the nearest couch. It was soft and definitely felt real. Harry continued touching things as he ventured father into the room.

It was softly lit with a crackling fire. The room itself was decorated in deep blue and gold—no, bronze colors. It didn't seem like the kind of place Voldemort would frequent.

Although, there was a small bookcase that held a collection of worn books that looked to mostly be about potions. Harry looked them over, but didn't dare touch them. They looked fairly innocuous, but if they were anything like the Restricted Section books, he wasn't going to take his chances.

Strange, it didn't seem like the kind of room that Lucius Malfoy would frequent either. Harry couldn't imagine Lucius actually dirtying his hands making potions. More than likely, he'd had Snape make that awful potion.

He went over to the fireplace and looked around on the mantle, in case some Floo powder had been left out. It wasn't likely, but Harry picked up each of the various vases and knickknacks in turn.

He'd just picked up a heavy ornate box when he heard a door open behind him. Harry whirled around and the box slipped from his suddenly numb fingers.

He only dimly registered the crash of the box against the floor as he stared at the person who had entered the room.


	8. Truth

Chapter 8; Truth

"Snape," Harry growled.

He was running across the room almost before he'd thought about it. However, he didn't even get close enough to attack Snape. A single wave of Snape's wand had Harry lying on his back on the floor, gasping for breath as though he'd just been hit with a Bludger.

"You will not attack me, Potter," said Snape softly as he waved his wand again, leaving Harry able to breathe once more.

Harry started to get back on his feet, but had only gotten as far as sitting up before he was startled by the sudden appearance of Draco, who offered Harry his hand.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Harry demanded to know, ignoring Draco's proffered hand.

"It's just a hand," said Draco. "Take it."

Harry reluctantly took it, feeling strange prickles in his skin, and allowed Draco to pull him upright. He immediately shook his hand, trying to get rid of the creepy sensation.

Harry repeated himself, this time without swearing, in the hopes of getting an answer.

"Sit down," said Snape.

Harry looked around and chose a small couch. Draco followed him, sitting close by. Harry surreptitiously slid left several inches, as far away as he could get without it being obvious that he didn't want Draco anywhere near him.

Snape used his wand to move an armchair and low table to sit across from the couch. An opaque glass appeared on the table, closest to Harry. Snape waved at it and said, "Drink."

Harry shook his head. He wasn't drinking anything Snape offered.

"Rest assured that if I wanted to poison you, I've had ample time to do so before now. Drink it, or I _will_ make you," said Snape.

When would Snape have been able to poison him? This was the first Harry had seen of him in what he was sure had been days of being locked in that cell. He decided it was better not to ask and picked up the cup. He hesitated a minute, but a glare from Snape had him tilting the cup and drinking its contents. He grimaced at the taste of sickly sweet lemon and set the cup back down on the table a little harder than necessary.

"Calming Draught," said Snape, answering Harry's unspoken question. "I suspect that it will be necessary, given your unprovoked attack upon me."

"Unprovoked?" asked Harry incredulously. "You _killed_ Dumbledore! And then you attacked me!"

"I did no such thing, idiot boy," hissed Snape. "Dumbledore killed _himself_, and I was protecting your worthless hide."

Harry couldn't help himself, his mouth dropped open and he stared dumbly at Snape.

"Close your mouth, you look stupid," said Snape.

Harry snapped his mouth shut, and then said, "Dumbledore didn't kill himself. You can't Avada Kedavra yourself."

"There are a great many things you do not know about the Headmaster," said Snape. "Matters were… arranged to appear as they did."

"You cursed him with Avada Kedavra," said Harry lamely.

"You truly are an idiot. Wandless magic can be used to mimic certain effects."

"You still killed him when you threw him off the Tower," said Harry stubbornly.

He could swear Snape rolled his eyes as he responded, "The Headmaster was as good as dead before I threw him off the Tower, as we had _prearranged_. It had to look as though I had killed him with the curse. It could not be any other way."

"Why?" Harry demanded to know.

"Do I have to spell everything out for you?" growled Snape. "I had to cement my place by the Dark Lord's side so that you might have a chance at defeating him!"

"And what makes you think I would believe that?" asked Harry. He wasn't an idiot. Snape was up to something.

"Because if I was truly a Death Eater, don't you think you'd be with Voldemort right now, and most likely dead or close to it?"

"Instead of being tormented by Lucius Malfoy? Where were you when I was locked in that fucking cell? Or how about when he poured liquid fire down my throat?"

"You haven't figured it out yet, Potter?" asked Snape.

He got up and exited the room through the door that he had previously entered through. Harry and Draco sat in silence for several minutes, until the door opened again. Instead of Snape, though, Lucius Malfoy stepped into the room.

Harry's skin started to crawl. He was sure that if Snape hadn't made him drink the potion, he would be panicking. As it was, his body fought the Draught, wanting to get up and run, attack Lucius, _something_.

Harry's hands started to shake slightly as Lucius came closer, than he stopped and looked at Harry, a strange searching look that made Harry feel sick. And then Lucius seemed to melt away, leaving Snape in his place. Harry's jaw dropped again and he gaped at Snape for several long minutes, then the tenuous hold the Calming Draught held over Harry broke. He lunged off the couch and at Snape, intent on attacking him.

Instead of hexing Harry to stop him this time, though, Snape deftly grabbed Harry's wrists and kept Harry from hitting him. Harry resorted to kicking as he growled furiously like an angry animal. He only got a few good kicks in before Snape transferred both his wrists into one hand and spun him around, then wrapped both arms around Harry's chest, pinning his arms. Harry fought to free himself, but Snape had a surprisingly strong grip.

"Let me go, you fucking traitor!" he screamed.

"No," said Snape softly.

Draco got up and moved to stand in front of Harry.

"Harry, calm down," he said.

Harry narrowed his eyes and glared at Draco.

"There's more to this than you think you know. If you calm down, we can discuss it rationally," said Draco.

"Get away from me, Malfoy," hissed Harry.

"Severus is only trying to help you," said Draco.

"_Help_ me?" asked Harry incredulously. "He tortured me for _days_. Are you blind or just plain stupid? Or is being locked up in a shrinking room while having your mind fucked with your idea of fun?"

Harry smirked in satisfaction when Draco's usually pale face turned white.

"Has _Severus_ been keeping secrets from you, Malfoy? Didn't you know that's what Death Eaters do?"

"That's enough," said Snape angrily. "Draco, go."

Draco spun away and quickly vanished through the door.

"As for you, Potter," said Snape, roughly pushing Harry over to a single chair. "You will sit down and listen, and you will _not_ interrupt me."


	9. Snape's Tale

Chapter 9; Snape's Tale

Snape abruptly turned and began pacing back and forth in front of Harry. Nearly a minute passed before he faced Harry again.

"I suppose I should start with the night Dumbledore died," he began, looking directly into Harry's eyes.

"Dumbledore informed me by Patronus that he had found another Horcrux, or so he believed, just minutes before he left the castle with you. I immediately went to prepare for your return, as the last time Dumbledore retrieved a Horcrux, it also badly injured him. I was not prepared then, and it cost the Headmaster his right hand. I would not make that mistake a second time.

"Hours after your departure, Professor Flitwick came to my office and informed me of the Dark Mark's appearance over the Astronomy Tower, and I knew that it was a trap to lure Dumbledore in. I immediately headed to the Tower.

"I ran through the battle and up to the Tower, knowing Draco was the one who had let the Death Eaters into the castle and would be attempting once more to kill Dumbledore. He wasn't going to succeed; I've known that since the beginning of the year, but Dumbledore and I had already planned for the eventuality that I would have to help Dumbledore kill himself.

"I didn't want to, but Dumbledore made me swear it with an Unbreakable Vow, that when the time came, I would prevent Draco from killing if he actually came close to succeeding and I would make sure he died by no one's hand but his own."

Snape paused for a moment and glanced at Harry, who hadn't made a sound.

"Have you ever heard the story of the three brothers?"

Harry mutely shook his head.

"The story says that three brothers decided to travel the world together. One evening at twilight they came to a river that had claimed the lives of many who had attempted to cross it. The Peverell brothers, however, were wizards, and simply created a bridge to cross over. They had barely set foot on the bridge when Death himself appeared to them, angry that he'd been cheated out of three new victims.

"Death was cunning, though, and pretended to congratulate the brothers for their cleverness and offered them each a prize. The eldest brother asked for a wand that would always win for its master, a worthy prize for a man who had conquered Death. So Death crafted a wand of elder and the hair of a Thestral and promised that the wand would be the most powerful wand of all.

"The middle brother was arrogant and wanted to humiliate Death further, so he asked for the power to bring back the dead. So Death picked up a black stone from the riverbed and gave it to the brother, promising that when turned over three times in ones hand, the stone would have the power to bring back the dead.

"The youngest brother was humble and did not trust Death, so instead of asking for something to further his own desires, asked for something that would enable him to leave without Death being able to follow him. Death knew he had been outsmarted but could not betray his true intentions, so he took off his own cloak of invisibility and gave it to the brother.

"Death stepped aside and allowed the brothers to continue on their travels. Eventually the trio separated, and went home. The third brother sought out a wizard that he had had a fight with and dueled him to the death. Afterwards, he went to an inn to celebrate his victory and boast of his unbeatable wand. Late that night, a greedy wizard snuck into his room and slit the brother's throat and stole his wand.

"The second brother returned home and followed Death's instructions in the usage of the stone. To his joy, the girl he had been planning to marry appeared before him. However, she was not truly alive, and suffered from no longer belonging to the world of the living and wanted to return to the land of the dead. The brother was driven mad with longing and eventually took his life so that he could truly join his love.

"The third brother remained hidden to Death for many years. Finally, when he had grown old after living a long and happy life, the brother gave the cloak to his son. He greeted Death as an old friend, and together they departed the land of the living as equals.

"It is said that if the three gifts, called Hallows, are reunited, the person who possessed them would be immortal. They were supposedly lost through the years, if they did exist at all. But you and I both know Hallows that exist, if they are indeed the legendary Hallows."

Harry stared at Snape for a moment, and then something clicked into place.

"Dumbledore had the Elder Wand, didn't he?" he asked.

"The unbeatable wand had to be won from the wizard that possessed it for it to be used by a thief. The plan went wrong that night on the Tower. Dumbledore was supposed to die before the wand was taken from him, so that the wand could never be used again. But our plans were for naught the moment that Draco disarmed the Headmaster. He'd won the Elder Wand."

"What happened to the other Hallows?" asked Harry.

Instead of answer, Snape asked, "Did Dumbledore tell you the name of the Dark Lord's ancestors?"

"Wasn't he distantly related to Salazar Sytherin?" asked Harry.

"Yes, but there is another, more recent name," said Snape.

Harry thought back to his lessons with Dumbledore, then suddenly remembered an ugly gold ring set with a cracked black stone, worn by Marvolo Gaunt.

"The Peverells…" said Harry slowly.

"I see you can use your brain occasionally," said Snape, though without malice. "The legend says that the brothers were named Peverell. The Dark Lord belived himself to be a descendent of one of them, and indeed may have been, as he stole a ring from his father, one which bore the Peverell coat of arms. But this ring had a special talent, one the Dark Lord never discovered.

"However, he did bind a piece of his soul to the ring, turning it into a Horcrux and cursed it before hiding it at the old Gaunt house. Dumbledore discovered all of this at the cost of his hand. We managed to slow the curse, but eventually it would kill him. If it succeeded, the Dark Lord would have unknowingly won the Elder Wand."

"What about the third Hallow, though?" asked Harry, though he was fairly certain he already knew the answer. Death's cloak bore a striking similarity to his own Invisibility Cloak.

"You and I both know you already know the answer to that question. You too are distantly related to the Peverell brothers," said Snape. "That cloak of yours has shown no signs of wear over the years, I presume?"

Harry nodded his head. The cloak was in perfect condition when he'd gotten it, and it was still in perfect condition.

"Keep it safe. The Headmaster said you will know what to do with it when the time comes."

Snape walked over to the fireplace and picked up a long, thin box. He came back over and held the box out to Harry.

"Take it," said Snape. "Technically, they are yours to have, as they belonged to your distant relatives."

Harry hesitantly took the box. It was plain black, slightly larger than a wand box.

"Open it," instructed Snape impatiently.

Harry removed the lid and revealed a wand that he'd seen Dumbledore use several times and the ugly gold ring that Dumbledore had had the previous year.

"The ring, though cracked, will still serve its original purpose. I do not advise you use it until the moment you must. It has driven better men than you to madness. The wand, I suspect, will not work for you," said Snape.

Harry picked up the wand, carefully avoiding touching the ring and said, "Lumos."

Snape did not look surprised. He handed Harry a different wand, one that he recognized as his own holly and phoenix feather wand.

Before he could ask what the point of all of this was, Snape whispered "Draco."

Less than a minute later, Draco was back in the room.

"Give him the Elder Wand, Potter," said Snape.

"Are you kidding me?" asked Harry incredulously. "He'll probably hex me."

"Draco has a wand already, Potter. He will not harm you. Now give him the wand," said Snape, sounding annoyed.

Harry reluctantly handed over the wand, keeping his tightly clenched in his right hand, ready in case Snape was lying.

Draco took the wand and moved into a dueling stance.

"Stu—"


	10. Doubt

Harry reacted instinctively.

"Expelliarmus!"

The Elder Wand flew from Draco's hand and landed at Harry's feet. He hesitated a moment before picking it up.

"It's all yours, Harry. I didn't want it. It was a mistake, I swear," said Draco quickly.

"Now is not the time, Draco," said Snape.

Draco vanished as quickly he'd entered the room.

"Try the wand again, Potter," said Snape.

Harry waved the wand.

"Lumos."

The tip of the wand glowed brilliantly.

"Nox."

Harry put the wand back in its box and closed it, then looked Snape in the eyes."

"So the Elder Wand works for me. That's not what all this was about, is it?"

"That you must learn for yourself," said Snape, sounding as though this discussion was over, but Harry was not satisfied.

"You _tortured_ me. What the fuck kind of sick lesson was that?" Harry yelled.

"One that you needed to learn," said Snape. "Now come. I'll show you to your room."

Harry decided to give up asking questions for the moment. If he could get Draco alone, he could probably get answers out of him. He followed Snape out into another long hallway. Though this one was light beige and normal-looking, Harry still felt uneasy. He inched over as close to the wall as he could without attracting Snape's attention.

Snape led him into a plain room that contained only a bed, wardrobe, desk and a door that presumably led to a bathroom. The walls were painted light blue and the room was decorated to match.

"I'll have your trunk brought in. Mealtimes are at eight, noon, and six. Do _not_ be late," said Snape and abruptly left, shutting the door hard behind him.

He hadn't bothered to tell Harry the time. Strangely, that was all he could think of as he walked around touching the things in the room. Snape was probably watching him and laughing at him at that very moment. Stupid Potter doesn't even know how to ask or use magic to find out the time. Stupid, stupid, _stupid_.

Harry ignored the bed and sat down in a corner. He pulled his knees up to his chest, his eyes darting around the room. He didn't trust Snape. How did he know whether everything Snape ha just told him as a lie or not? He'd lied to everyone for years and presumably still lied to Voldemort. He couldn't believe _anything_ that came out of Snape –or Draco's—mouth.

Harry leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes briefly. This was just another way to fuck with him and like with the visions, he would find a way to fight it. Hell, this whole thing could be a vision. Who knew what kind of crazy potions Snape could come up with, and he had had ample time to feed them to Harry. Or maybe the potion he'd been given earlier hadn't really been a Calming Draught, but a suggestion potion or something like that. Something that would make him more likely to believe the ridiculous story Snape had tried to feed him.

Sure, the so-called Elder Wan hadn't worked until he'd "won" it from Draco, but that could have been a spell too. His cloak might have just been charmed really well and good care taken of it. The ring, however, he couldn't explain, but then again, he hadn't tried it. Snape had in fact told him _not_ to try it.

Harry glanced at the box that still held the ring. If it worked, it would prove part of Snape's story true, but it wouldn't prove the whole story. Harry couldn't believe that Dumbledore had wanted to kill himself and had made Snape help him. That wasn't possible. He'd always thought of Dumbledore as invincible, and that he'd been killed so easily, as easily as any other man, was too hard to believe. He had to know the truth.

Harry picked up the box and opened it. The gold of the ring sparkled slightly inviting him to pick it up. He felt strange, as though he was underwater, and couldn't hear or see properly. Harry reached out slowly with his right hand and hovered over the ring for a moment before descending and picking it up.

Harry immediately felt a shock like electricity run through his body. He tried to drop the ring, but his hand refused to open. His eyes slipped closed and he slumped sideways, unconscious before his head touched the floor.

A/N: My apologies for the delay. I realized today that I'm an idiot, and had both this chapter and eleven already written and ready to go. This was a short one, but it had a good spot to stop, and chapter eleven will be up shortly. Enjoy!


	11. Confessions

He was in Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore sat at his desk, looking grave, but expectant.

"Professor?" asked Harry, feeling confused. He'd just been in his room, holding the ring. How had he ended up here, in Dumbledore's office?

"Ah, Severus, you're here," said Dumbledore, looking at a point just over Harry's left shoulder.

"Still obsessed with stating the obvious," said Snape.

Harry whirled around. What was going on here? He reached out to Snape and gasped when his hand passed right through him. He must be in a memory, but how was that even possible? He hadn't been near a Pensieve. Harry stopped wondering when Snape walked over and sat across from Dumbledore.

"The hand?" asked Snape.

Dumbledore shook back his robe sleeve and held out his blackened right hand to Snape, who inspected it carefully and waved his wand over it several times.

"I believe the poison has stopped spreading, but one last dose should make sure of that," said Snape. He pulled a small vial of crystal blue potion out of his robes and offered it to Dumbledore.

"Thank you, Severus," said Dumbledore and drank. "You do know what this means? The vow—"

"I do," interrupted Snape. "It will give me no pleasure to assist in your mad plan of suicide. He will find a way to make the wand work for him."

"There is no other way. I have researched quite thoroughly. I am glad to give my life knowing it will lead to Voldemort's death," said Dumbledore softly as he picked up a wand that Harry recognized as the Elder Wand. "And in the event that I fail to break the power of the wand, Harry is to have it, along with the ring. I do not wish the temptation of the Hallows upon him, but I am sure he will be able to resist where I have failed. With the Hallows, he will defeat Voldemort. There is no doubt about it. He will master the Hallows."

"The last enemy…" said Snape.

"Yes," said Dumbledore simply. "You know what to do after my death?"

"We've covered this over and over, Headmaster. The plan is ready to be in place immediately after…"

Dumbledore's office rapidly faded away, leaving Harry in darkness, feeling as though he was at the bottom of the lake at Hogwarts again. He could hear vague snatches of conversation, but nothing he could understand.

Finally, after laying for who knew how long, Harry started to be able to see a little bit of light. However, he couldn't move, not even his eyelids. He couldn't tell what he was laying on, either. It was like he was dead.

Suddenly, one of his eyelids was pushed back, and he was forced to stare directly at wandlight in front of his eye. After what felt like a full minute of painful light, the wand was moved away and Harry could make out the blurred figure of Snape.

Snape release his eyelid and Harry could no longer tell what was going on, at least, until he felt his mouth pried open an a cold, slimy liquid poured down his throat. Harry panicked as he felt the liquid settle in the back of his throat, refusing to move. But he couldn't move himself either and he had no way to let Snape know. He couldn't breathe…

Just as he was about to move into unconsciousness, Harry felt his throat muscles relax and the liquid continued down to his stomach. He heard footsteps and a quiet click, and then there was silence…

Harry lay there for several minutes in maddening silence before he heard a voice say, "Potter."

_Draco_.

"I know you can't answer back, but I figured I'd talk to you, keep you company for a while."

He'd rather have silence.

"Severus is pretty worried, you know. He thought that ring was safe to touch. He only wanted to keep you from using it before it was time because its power is dangerous."

Snape should have tested it out himself first, then.

"He did check it out. I know you're thinking he didn't, if you can hear me, that is. I saw him do it myself. Nothing happened to him, I swear."

Yeah, right.

There was silence for a while, and Harry hoped Draco had given up and was going to leave, but then he spoke again.

"I—I wish you knew how sorry I am. I had no idea the Dark Lord was that insane. My father always spoke of him and the Dark Arts with such… reverence. I never knew anything different than what he told me. It's nothing more than groveling in the dirt and hoping he doesn't choose to punish you that day. I would have done anything to please him, but I've seen the truth. He's a master manipulator who likes to torture others for fun, including his followers. The power, riches, glory are all lies. I never got anything out of it but pain and a tattoo I can never be rid of."

Yeah, he says that now. Six years of enjoying terrorizing others. And now he was _sorry_? Draco Malfoy could go to hell.

Harry heard a soft click and footsteps came over to where he lay, still unable to move. His eyelids were opened again, and Harry once again saw the tip of Snape's wand. He tried to blink and shut out the light and felt the tiniest twitch of movement.

"His muscles are starting to respond. Hand me another vial of potion," said Snape.

Harry was once again forced to choke on the potion until his throat muscles kicked in and swallowed.

"Perhaps another few days and he'll be completely lucid."

No. He didn't want to lay here helpless and completely at the mercy of Snape and Draco.

Harry tried as hard as he could to move some part of his body, but not even his eyelids twitched now. It was hopeless.


End file.
